


Star-Crossed

by DarkReyna16



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, ML Ultimate Guess Who Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkReyna16/pseuds/DarkReyna16
Summary: "Two houses, both alike in dignity..."...Well, you know the story.





	

This was a terrible idea.

Why had he let Nino and Kim persuade him into coming to this event?

Yes, yes, it was a very lovely gathering, with all the proper amusements, such as the mead, the food, the singing bard and the dancing; beautiful women dressed up in costumes, masks disguising everyone from the world. As long as he kept his mask on, no one was bound to recognize him, but even so, if his father found out…

He knew his friends were just trying to distract him from his heartbreak, anyway—the love of his life had _just_ turned him down that afternoon. Truly, Adrien appreciated the effort, but as far as he was concerned, this was just a big waste of—

The moment he spotted her across the room, he knew he was finished.

She was a vision in red, the fabric of her dress luminous, emphasizing her glow in the candlelit room. She wandered about the edge of the room, bluebell eyes searching beneath that red mask, as if she was looking for someone, tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear when it escaped from the pins that held the rest of her dark locks in place.

Such a lovely creature could not rightfully exist, least of all for him, without some sort of catch. It _had_ to be a trap, a test to his willpower. There was no way she could be real…

But he could not find the trick, the seams to her costume. If anything, she was an ethereal angel masquerading as a human, rather than a demon masquerading as human, sent to tempt him into sin.

He had to know her.

 

* * *

           

She moved about the outskirts of the dance floor, careful to add refinement to every step she took. It was wearisome, having to uphold the appearance of a young woman in good social standing, when all she wanted to do was be herself—a young woman in good social standing with an actual _personality._ But try telling that to her parents, her lady-in-waiting…and the rest of society, for that matter.

She raised a hand to sigh behind it, not even able to openly express how displeased she was. If she escaped into the night after an hour or two of this gathering, would her mother consider that so terrible?

As she lowered it, her hand was suddenly caught.

Marinette paused, turning on the spot. Who dared to touch her so casually?

A pair of bright green eyes from beneath a black mask greeted her.

Marinette stared. Other details of this man’s appearance came slowly: the gold of his hair, his tall stature, the black costume he wore. But her attention kept getting stolen by his eyes, for she had never seen such bright eyes before…they were lovely, almost shining like the stars. For a crazed moment, she thought that she must possess them…but no, that was ridiculous. She could not very well lay claim to a pair of eyes that belonged to another…

As she stared at him, the owner of the lovely green eyes smiled. Oh…his smile was lovely, too…

“Good evening, fair maiden,” he greeted her, and she noticed the teasing lilt to his voice. This was a mischief-maker, she could already tell. But instead of fleeing, as her mother would instruct her to do, Marinette lingered, allowing the pretty stranger to step closer to her.

“Good evening,” she returned his greeting with an incompletely curtsy, as he still had possession of her other hand. “Sir, have we met?”

“Oh, I fear not,” replied the stranger, his eyes glittering by the light of the candles surrounding them. “For had our paths crossed before tonight, there is no doubt that I would have remembered you.”

He bowed and kissed her hand. Marinette felt herself warm, and she tugged out her fan from within the sleeve of her dress to hide her face, despite the red mask she already wore.

“Oh, a charmer, are you?” She teased lightly with a wink, and the stranger grinned. “And may I have the name of such a dashing rogue?”

“Would that not ruin the point of the masquerade, my Lady?” The stranger teased, and Marinette laughed.

“Oh, while that would not do at all, I spoke of nothing of your true name,” she chided, hiding her mischievous grin behind her fan. “If you seek anonymity, then you shall have it. But would it not be agreeable for you to give me _some_ name to address you?”

“Clever,” the stranger remarked, and Marinette flushed with pride. He raised a black-gloved hand to tap his chin as he thought, all the while keeping hold of her hand as well, as if he feared she would disappear the minute he let go. An idea seemed to come to him; he stopped tapping his chin and snapped his fingers, his roguish grin widening.

“I have it: you may address me as… _Chat Noir._ ”

“Ooh, how mysterious,” Marinette replied approvingly. The stranger grinned, stepping closer so that he was nearly flush against her, the action causing Marinette to blush, though she dared not draw away from him.

“And you, my Lady? What may I call you?”

‘Lady’, ha. Normally it was her mother that was the Lady…

…But then, why _shouldn’t_ Marinette be a lady tonight? It was a masquerade, was it not? Therefore, whatever she chose to be, she _would_ be.

“Lady Luck,” she replied to Chat Noir, only a smidge embarrassed when he grinned. “But ‘Lady’ is fine.”

“Indeed. So, my dear Lady, may I tempt you to dance with this unworthy cat?”

“That depends—does the cat have good manners?” Marinette asked, tilting her head to the side. Chat Noir chuckled and made her a bow.

“No biting or clawing, my Lady. This I vow.”

“Then you shall have your dance,” Marinette decided, placing her hand within his offered one once more.

Still smiling that lovely, heart-melting smile, Chat led her onto the dance floor. The other guests parted, clearing a space for them to enter, where they took the center of the dance floor. Normally, this would embarrass Marinette—she had been trying to be discreet this whole event—but when Chat placed his palm against hers, she quickly forgot to be self-conscious. The bard picked up another tune, and she revolved slowly with Chat, unable to tear her gaze away from him. It was a moment before she realized that she had been silent for much too long, and thus endeavored to speak.

“You dance so well,” she complimented him, earning another smile.

“Ah, but my Lady steps so lightly, how can I not be an excellent dancer with her as my partner?”

Oh, he was very clever. Marinette was in danger of falling in love with him on the spot, if she had not already at this point.

“Are you in the habit of charming every lady you come across with that silver tongue of yours?”

“Are you accusing me of being a flirt?”

“I might be.”

“My Lady, I am _wounded,_ ” Chat exaggerated, grinning as he stepped in close to her while they danced. “Why would you ever doubt that I have eyes for no one but you?”

“Perhaps because we have just met?” Marinette pointed out, her tone a touch dry.

Chat grinned.

“Touché,” he assented, and on Marinette’s next spin, he stepped in and slipped an arm around her, his grin widening at the way she blushed. “Tell me, my Lady…do you believe in love at first sight?”

The answer to that question used to be ‘no’…but as she stared into those beautiful green eyes of his, Marinette felt her opinion on the matter beginning to shift—

“Adrien!”

Chat’s head snapped to the side, those green eyes widening beneath his mask as a person in a green costume and mask rushed forward, grasping his shoulder.

“We must go,” he insisted urgently with barely a glance to Marinette. “Kim insinuated something less than savory about one of the esteemed guests here, and I fear things might escalate unpleasantly if we do not hasten away from this place.”

Chat frowned, and Marinette’s heart sank as his arms left her.

“I see. Then let us depart,” he decided. When his friend went away, however, he turned once more to Marinette, gently lifting her hand to his lips.

“Until we meet again, my Lady,” he vowed, and the way his eyes burned so intensely left little doubt in Marinette’s mind that they _would_ meet again, despite his rather abrupt departure. His expression left her mouth dry and her hands tingling; she could only manage a nod before he left her, disappearing into the crowd, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor. For but a moment, she swayed absently to the music, still lost in Chat Noir’s presence, even after he had vanished. What a beautiful, kind, and charming stranger…was this really love? If so, Marinette felt rather foolish for brushing off the concept for so long.

“Marinette!”

Another hand gripped hers, but Marinette knew this touch, for it had been with her for nearly all of her life. Marinette turned to greet her friend, the daughter of her mother’s chef, but found that she had no time for pleasantries, for Alya was tugging her along, off the dance floor and to a secluded corner of the room, hidden by a thick curtain. Alya had but a single candle with her to lighten the shadows, but by that solitary wick, Marinette could spot the anxiousness shining in her friend’s eyes. Such a troubled look caused Marinette to worry in turn, and her teeth found her bottom lip as she carefully inquired of Alya what vexed her so.

“Do you not know who you were dancing with?” Alya asked her, hazel eyes wide. “Oh Marinette, had you known, you would have nothing to do with that man!”

Dread settled in Marinette’s chest.

“What can you mean, Alya…?”

Alya sighed, lifting her mask, and Marinette saw just how grave this situation had made her friend. It worried her more.

“Marinette,” Alya began carefully, as if she was delivering dreadful news to someone on their deathbed, “that man you were dancing with was Adrien. Of the Agreste house. _Adrien Agreste._ ”

Adrien…Agreste…?

Horror bloomed in Marinette’s chest now, her dread well-founded, it appeared. How could she not have known that she was fraternizing with the enemy?

“I…but…Alya, are you _sure?_ ”

“Dreadfully so,” said Alya, looking sympathetic as she stroked Marinette’s hair. “I know the man that took him away—I was there in the courtyard when the Prince had to interrupt another fight between House Agreste and House Cheng. Nino was there, accompanied by some from the House Agreste, when the Prince made his declaration that there would be no more conflict between the houses. And I have seen Adrien with him before; they are friends. …Adrien is an _Agreste,_ Marinette.”

The words washed over Marinette like a cold, harsh wind, or a freezing ocean wave; she gasped and shuddered, hating how cold this unwelcome news had left her.

How could she have been so _foolish_?

“You’re not foolish,” Alya assured her when Marinette repeated the question out loud. “You had no way of knowing. This is a party for House Cheng and its neighbors…he was not meant to be here, but it appears he and his friends snuck in, somehow…anyway, how could you have known? Don’t fret, Marinette—now that you are aware, you must do what you can to avoid him from now on.”

“…Yes,” Marinette replied automatically, seeing nothing but the brightness of Chat Noir’s— _Adrien’s_ —green eyes, how they burned with intensity when he promised to see her again…oh no.

This was all wrong. Marinette was supposed to _hate_ Adrien, the way House Cheng hated House Agreste, and vice-versa.

Why, then, did her heart ache at the thought of having to hate him for his name alone?

Why did the one man she found she had fallen in love with have to be her enemy, too?

 

* * *

 

“Whew!” Kim whooped as he, Nino, and Adrien quickly fled the Cheng Manor, abandoning their masks, Kim grinning from ear to ear at the thrill of it all. “That was fun!”

“Would have been better if we hadn’t had to flee for our lives,” Nino said dryly, giving Kim a look. “Must you antagonize at least one person anywhere you go?”

“Yes,” said Kim with a straight face. “I find that it is my calling in life to make other lives difficult when I have the chance. If someone is irked by my presence, then I have done my job.”

“You will be slain for your tomfoolery one of these days, Kim. Mark my words,” Nino warned direly. Kim rolled his eyes and mock bit his thumb at Nino, who shoved him before they both burst into raucous laughter…laughter Adrien did not join in. Kim noticed.

“What ails you, friend?” He scowled. “Do _not_ tell me you are still pining after that Chloé. If she will not have you, Adrien, then she does not deserve you! Find another!”

It took a moment for Adrien to realize that Kim was addressing him, and a moment more to register what he was saying. A slow, somewhat silly grin spread across his face.

“Chloé who?” He asked as they strolled down the road, his eyes skyward as he admired the stars as he never had before. “I am thinking only of my Lady.”

“What Lady?”

Adrien grinned.

“Lady Luck,” he answered with a laugh. “Nino, you must have glimpsed her—I was dancing with her when you came to fetch me.”

Nino and Kim paused. Adrien took in their expressions, and was confused. Why were they looking at him like they had just seen a ghost?

“…Adrien. Surely you jest?” Kim said slowly, looking uncharacteristically serious. Adrien quirked a brow at him.

“Surprisingly, Kim, not everything has to be a joke,” he replied, only to frown when Nino and Kim exchanged looks. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, Adrien…we thought you knew,” Nino began slowly, grasping Adrien’s shoulder. This only confused him more.

“Knew what? What is it?”

“That woman you were dancing with? Your ‘Lady Luck’?” Kim quoted, folding his arms and giving Adrien a grave look. “That was Marinette Cheng, of House Cheng. She is one of your enemies, friend.”

Adrien stared at his pair of friends.

“…That isn’t something to joke about, Kim,” he replied sternly. Yes, Kim was a fool, and it was amusing…when he picked his moments correctly. But to joke about his Lady like that—

“I am not trying to play you the fool this time, Adrien,” Kim replied, looking uncomfortable. “It seems your Lady has already done that herself.”

“It’s true—I have seen her with House Cheng before,” Nino agreed, squeezing Adrien’s shoulder in comfort. “She is one of them, Adrien. I thought you knew that, so when I saw you dancing with her, I thought you were just playing a prank. …Is that not what you were doing…?”

A prank…?

No. No, there was nothing amusing about this situation at all.

Adrien had no idea…

“…But I love her,” he said quietly, almost desperately. Nino and Kim exchanged glances before they both turned back to Adrien, grim.

“You had best forget her, Adrien.”

“It would never work out.”

“Your families hate each other.”

“ _You_ would hate each other, had you known.”

“There is a good possibility that she was only playing with you, too.”

That last comment hurt Adrien much more than it should have. Was it true? The whole time he had been with her…had Lady Luck—Marinette—had she only been teasing him?

Adrien recalled the way her bluebell eyes twinkled as she laughed with him, the redness of her cheeks as a blush filled her face when he danced close to her. He thought of the way her face fell when he announced he had to leave, the feeling of her eyes trailing him as he escaped enemy territory with his friends…

That couldn’t have all been an act, a lie…could it…?

Both his friends gave him pitying looks, and they tugged him along after them, talking loudly of visiting town tomorrow, to finally find Adrien a _nice_ girl he could fall in love with, rather than spoiled brats and sworn enemies. Adrien barely listened, his mind elsewhere, on a pair of bluebell eyes beneath a bright red mask, hair as dark as midnight, and little dots of darker skin across her nose, like they were tiny kisses from the sun itself.

Trick or not…Adrien had to see her again.

She might be a Cheng, and House Cheng might be at war with House Agreste, the house of his father…but Adrien didn’t care. None of it mattered now.

If he never got to see her again, nothing would matter ever again.


End file.
